The Lion and The Lamb
by ValHund
Summary: Harry Potter is in the graveyard, Gandalf is walking down the street, and Superman is flying over Sunnydale- fictional characters are coming to life and our heroes must stop them before it's too late. Meanwhile, Spike discovers Twilight. He is not amused.


_Probably at the beginning set just after Tabula Rasa. But in terms of what's going on, mostly where the characters are in terms of relationships with each other, mostly AU- ie. Tara hasn't left etc. Call it poetic license for the purposes of plot convenience._

**THE LION AND THE LAMB**

"Hey Spike," said Dawn cheerfully, walking into his crypt without invitation.

Spike grunted. He was watching Dawson's Creek, and didn't really want to talk to the littlest Summers.

"Wanna come steal stuff?" Dawn asked hopefully, hovering in the doorway tentatively.

"I'm reformed, remember?" answered Spike, giving up on trying to watch his show, and turning off the TV.

"Oh. I thought that it was just an act you were putting on for Buffy."

"It is. Mostly," admitted Spike, "But I _really _wouldn't want her to discover that I'm aiding you in your criminal tendencies. But I do encourage you to steal all you want from Tweed man's shop."

"She'd be pretty angry I guess," said Dawn, choosing to ignore Spikes last comment and walking over to sit in the armchair next to Spike's.

"My last set of bruises are only just starting to heal. No, it's purely legal games of kitten poker that are buying Spike his blood now," smiled Spike, rather wanly.

"Kitten poker?"

Spike scrabbled around in his brain for an explanation that wouldn't scar Dawn for the rest of her life.

"Er, the game was invented by kittens. Demon kittens, not ordinary kittens."

It hadn't sounded that lame in his head, but however unbelievable it was, Dawn seemed to buy it.

"Weird," she said, pulling a book out of her bag.

"So you've come to my crypt to read a book?" said Spike, trying not to show his disappointment.

He thought that now Buffy was alive Dawn might have regained her love of his more gruesome stories.

"Yep. It's just the right atmosphere. All dark and uggy."

"What are you reading then?" asked Spike, when suddenly a horrible thought came to him, "It's not Dracula is it?"  
>"No, of course not," Dawn replied, "I now that you and Dracula have that weird rivalry or whatever. I'm reading Twilight."<p>

When she said 'Twilight' her eyes went all dreamy, and her mouth kind of turned up at the corners.

"So what's it about then? It better not be a magic book, because after getting my mind wiped and thinking I'm the son of a sodding Watcher, I don't feel that kindly towards all that black arts mojo."

"No! It's a book about a girl who falls in love with a vampire, and he fall deeply in love with her, but he always has to fight against his instincts to suck her dry. But they are true loves and they have to struggle against all the odds to stay together."

"I think I might have heard that story somewhere before," said Spike mock thoughtfully.

"This is nothing like Buffy and Angel! Angel was lame, and I never got that whole soul-unsouled thing anyway. Edward is the perfect man."

Dawn started to get that glazed look in her eyes again.

"Right. Well you just read away, but try to be quiet, Passions is on." said Spike, grabbing the remote and turning on the TV.

"Passions. Right. Is that the dum one with the random walking doll?"

Dawn looked unimpressed.

"Shut your mouth! Timmy is not a stupid walking doll! I waited more than half a century for the invention of television, and nothing will ever beat Passions."

Spike paused for a moment, thinking hard, trying to think of something that was equal to his favourite show.

"Well, at times Dawson's Creek can be almost as good. But it doesn't have a talking doll, so it lacks a touch of that classic elegance."

"Right. I never would have picked you for a soap opera fan."

Dawn started to read, and placed the following three books next to her.

Just as she started to really get into the tenth chapter, (the one where Edward acted like the best boyfriend eva), a very annoyed Buffy walked into the crypt.

"Dawn! What are you doing here?"

"Hanging out with Spike," Dawn said, confused, "I do it all the time. He looked after me all the time while you were dead, remember?"

"Well…" Buffy wasn't sure what she could say without revealing that she and Spike had kissed, "At least try to do it at home. It isn't good for you to be hanging out in a crypt. I mean, there are still rotting dead bodies in here."

"Are there? Cool!" said Dawn at the exact same time as Spike said,

"I know. Don't you just love the smell of decomposing remains? Makes me feel right peckish."

"Out," said Buffy to Dawn.

Dawn slunk out.

"Buffy, we have to talk," said Spike.

"Not now Spike," said Buffy, turning to leave.

Spike sighed. He'd wait for a couple of weeks. She'd come crawling back to him soon enough.

He hoped.

He slunk back to his comfy chair to finish his program, but astonishingly wasn't able to pay attention to its dramatic brilliance. He scanned his crypt absent-mindedly, looking for something to take his mind off his longing for Buffy. His gaze fell on the pile of Twilight books, which Dawn had obviously forgotten to take with her, thanks to Buffy's harrying. Spike walked over to the books, and picked up the first one gingerly. There was a picture of hands holding an apple on the front cover, for some unknown reason. He flicked through to the first page, and looked at it critically.

Spike liked to claim that he hadn't read a book for over 50 years, but the truth was, he enjoyed reading a lot. Mostly poetry- the complete works of Emily Dickinson and Yates were hidden under his mattress. So it really wasn't _all_ that surprising that Spike sat down in his comfy chair, and started to read.

He got about 50 pages in before he realised how terrible it was.

"Bloody hell, how many times can you say chagrin in one paragraph?" he asked himself disbelievingly.

He tried to put the book down, tried to stop reading, but he found he couldn't. He just couldn't stop himself reading, and he couldn't stop himself enjoying the book. He got to the last, poorly written page, and found himself picking up the second book. Worst of all, he found himself looking forward to how Bella and Edward would cope with their complicated relationship.

By the next morning, he'd read each of the books, and was utterly disgusted with himself.

"That's exactly the kind of thing that gives vampires a bad name," he said to himself, glaring at the books, trying to resist the urge to read them again.

"Who the hell does that pretty boy vampire think he is anyway? And vampires don't sparkle. We burn. Much more masculine."

That thought prompted Spike to think about burning the books, but then he remembered that they belonged to Dawn, and that she would not be pleased if he burnt her precious 'novels'. He would go and return them once the sun went down. It would give him a great excuse to visit the Summers, and to confront Buffy about what they had had together.

He looked at the books, and once again felt desperate to read them one more time.

"Maybe I'll just use me blanket," he said, but it was a lovely warm day, and he knew that if even an inch of his skin was left uncovered, he'd be toast. Literally.

Spike sat down and waited for sunset.

_Meanwhile at The Magic Box…_

"So who's up for some slayage?" Buffy asked, looking eagerly around the table, trying to catch someone's eye, "I found a nest in a crypt in the old cemetery. We can have a real slay fest, and after, coffee with extra caffeinated goodness."

Giles looked over intently at one of his leather bound dusty old volumes, obviously trying not to meet her eyes. Buffy sighed, but wasn't too disappointed. She hadn't really expected Giles to come anyway.

"Xander?"

Xander opened his mouth, but was interrupted by Anya.

"Xander is unable to come on your killing mission. He and I are planning a night of passionate and romantic pre-marital sex, before planning our seating arrangements for the wedding rehearsal."

"What the crazy lady said," Xander shrugged, taking Anya's arm and propelling her out the door before she said anything else that would embarrass him to the point wherein he would be forced to wear a large paper bag on his head forever more.

"Come on Will! Surely you're desperate to try out some new spell on a nest of vamps?"

"Sorry Buffy, I'm spending the day with Tara. A purely magic free day. I'm off the magics unless some real big evil turns up," said Willow, covering the notebook in front of her with her hand to hide the fact that the pen was writing by itself.

Buffy nodded sympathetically.

"Fine. I guess I'll be flying solo."

Buffy shrugged and strode of the door, slinging her slaying bag over her shoulder. She made her way to the cemetery, enjoying the novelty value of being out during the daytime on a slaying job. She was planning some kind of strategic commando battle in which she besieged the crypt walls. Kind of like what happens in those documentaries on the history channel that are on really late at night.

She walked hastily through the large wrought iron cemetery gates, accidentally bumping into a bespectacled teenager with black hair.

"Oh, I am so sorry," said Buffy, helping the kid up.

He turned to look at her, revealing a strange lightning bolt shaped scar on his temple.

"I am so sorry I wasn't looking where I was-Oh my god has anyone ever told you that you look like Harry Potter?"

"Ahh, you've heard of me," smiled the HP look-a-like smugly.

Buffy laughed appreciatively at his lame joke, and started to continue walking.

'Excuse me," said HP L.A.L, "Could you please tell me where Diagon Alley is?"

He looked at Buffy quizzically, pushing his glasses further up his nose.

Buffy laughed, but this time it was obviously forced.

"Why are you laughing at me? You obviously know who I am, _muggl_e," Harry spat, pulling a long thin stick out of his pocket and waving it threateningly in Buffy's face.

"Whoah there wizard boy," said Buffy, "We don't want anyone to get hurt. You aren't the boy wizard, OK?"

A look of pure loathing crossed Harry's face, turning it into an ugly mask.

He pointed his wooden stick thing at Buffy's heart, and said, "Avada Kadavra."

Green sparks shot out towards Buffy, hitting her in the chest and knocking all the air out of her chest. Buffy found herself struggling to breathe, and felt her consciousness dissolving into inky blackness.

With some difficulty she pulled herself up into a standing position. The boy looked shocked.

"But…but… that was supposed to kill you," he said piteously.

"Well, us slayers, we don't die easy," said Buffy.

The boy pointed his wand at Buffy again, and she instinctively punched him. Hard. In the temple. He lay down, twitching slightly at first, and then gradually becoming completely still.

Buffy looked aghast at the (obviously dead) body lying in front of her.

"I just killed a crazy homeless kid."

Suddenly, the boy's hands exploded into flames, closely followed by the rest of his body being consumed by smoke. Soon there was nothing on the cemetery ground in front of Buffy to suggest that there had ever been a body.

"Wow."

Buffy looked quickly around the cemetery to see if there were any TV show hosts waiting to jump out at her and inform her that she had just won something for withstanding their prank. When she didn't see any she hurried back to the Magic Box. The nest of vamps would have to wait. This demon had been freaky.

She walked through the door of the Magic Box into the familiar chaos. She smiled at the few browsing customers, and walked over to Giles.

"Ah, Buffy. You're back earlier than expected," said Giles, cleaning his glasses for about the hundredth time that day.

"I met a demon." Buffy explained matter of factly.

'Can you describe him to me?"

"Short. Only so high," Buffy said, gesturing to about her shoulders height, "Kind of cute, if you go in for the scruffy look. Looked a hell of a lot like Harry Potter."

"Well once again Buffy, you've been very helpful," said Giles sarcastically.

"Are you being sarcastic again? Cause you gotta know that never works."

Giles sighed.

"Did you notice anything else? Maybe something a little more unique than 'scruffy' and 'cute'?"

"Nope," Buffy thought hard, "Oh yeah. Apart from the whole bursting into flames thing, he seemed to think he actually _was _Harry Potter."

"He burst into flames? Good, good, that is a fact that we can base research around."

Giles started fiddling around with his books, flipping to certain pages and writing down notes.

"Um, Giles! I said that he thought he was Harry Potter. Isn't that an interesting piece of info for the Giles' mind?"

"I don't really see how that's relevant. Demons can have, er, 'brain disorders' in the way that humans do. It's just a little less noticeable, considering their rather unhinged natural state."

"So is there like a demon institution full of demons who think they're the Holy Ganzethar?" Buffy asked jokily.

Unfortunately Giles was too busy researching to engage Buffy in witty banter.

Buffy thought about going down to the back of the shop and doing some training, and was about to do so when Dawn came running through the door, tears running down her face. She was clutching a book tightly to her chest.

"Dawnie! What is it?" asked Buffy, running towards her sister.

Giles hurried to the crying teenager, looking worried. It could be that a demon has attacked her. Or, that a cute guy had rejected her. With Dawn, you never could be that sure.

"I…I was reading," said Dawn dramatically, between sobs, "H-Harry P-p-potter, when suddenl-ly_" Dawn started crying even harder, and couldn't continue speaking.

"Did something attack you? Did a demon try to hurt you, because if so it is going to be in large amounts of pain in about 5 minutes," said Buffy, putting her arm around her sisters heaving shoulders.

"Nothing attacked me," explained Dawn, rubbing her red eyes, "I was reading, I was up to the part where Harry wins the Tri Wizard tournament, when, when, Harry was gone!"

Buffy and Giles looked at each other in concern. Either Dawn was even more starved of attention than they thought, or she had gone completely mad.

"I'm not crazy!" said Dawn, holding the book out to Buffy, "See for yourself!"

Buffy flicked through the book, scanning the odd page.

"Seems pretty normal to me," she said, "Wizards, magic, creepy guys in black robes. Is it just me, or do these books sound like some sort of creepy teenage bible?"

"Jeez Buffy, have you ever read past the fifth page of a book?" asked Dawn, snatching the book back impatiently.

"Well, I read Tv-Week? That has more than five… Fine, I may not be the most literary girl around, but I do know that characters don't just disappear.

Giles suddenly went pale.

"Uh oh," said Buffy, "You're getting that look. You're 'Why didn't I think of this before' look. That is never of the good."

"Dawn, may I have a look at your book?" asked Giles, looking dazed.

"Sure," said Dawn, "Enjoy. Not that that's possible now that Harry's gone."

Giles flicked through the book, making disapproving clicking noises with his tongue.

"It appears that, 'Lord Voldemort' was never stopped by Harry. He is, well, 'ruling' the wizarding world. It seems that, Harry never… existed."

"But that's impossible! That's impossible, right?" Buffy looked around, as if she was trying to find some invisible person to share her disbelief with, "I mean, demons I can deal with, but disappearing book characters? It's just written by some woman with too much time on her hands."

"JK Rowling does not have 'too much time on her hands'," snapped Dawn, "She's a talented writer. And she's like a squillionare."

"Actually Buffy, this is possible. And it explains that demon you met earlier today. It was Harry. It's possible, via some sort of complex spell, to bring book characters to life, as it were. If the author, and enough people, believes in her character, to some extent it is real. The sorcerer simply needs to harness the ethereal plain on which it exists, and bring it to this world. But you can't be in two planes at once, which is why Harry is no longer at Hogwarts."

Giles looked devastated. (He secretly had rather a penchant for teenage literature.)

Buffy looked creeped out.

"I just killed Harry Potter?"

"Buffy! How could you? The poor innocent fictitious boy wizard never did a thing to hurt you," said Xander, walking up to the trio, "Oh, hey Dawn."

Xander waved at Dawn casually, before noticing her hysterical crying.

"What is it Dawnie?" he asked, "I know it was a pretty lame joke, but it's nothing to get all weepy eyed about."

"Um, Xander?" said Buffy, tapping him on the shoulder, "Can you get Anya and the rest of the gang over to the magic box? Because this is kinda embarrassing, so I really don't want to be explaining it to all of you separately."

"Sure Buff," said Xander happily, "But maybe I won't mention to Willow or Tara that Harry Potter's involved. They hate those books. Something about misrepresentation and isolation of witches and wizards cause they're different. Willow was talking to me about it the other day, but my mind was on more important things, like cartoons. I love that coyote guy."

Xander wandered off to find the others, still muttering happily to himself.

_An hour later…_

"Well, I'm glad you killed that misrepresentation of witchcraft! Wands, robes, who uses wands these days anyway? It's characters like that that give witches and wizards bad names! Well, actually, good normal names like Harry and Ronald, but none the less, I think it's pretty inappropriate to school little witches and wizards all separate from everyone else, and_"

"Sweetie, don't get so worked up about it," Tara interjected, "Buffy's trying to tell us what she thinks we should do. She has this problem with the way witches are portrayed in pop culture," Tara explained to the rest of the group.

"Sorry guys. I'll just have to be content with posting anti-Harry fic on ."

Willow smiled ruefully.

"So you're the one who's been trolling!" exclaimed Dawn.

"Enough!" said Giles exasperatedly.

Everyone paid attention. Giles was kind of scary when he was angry.

"We have a powerful sorcerer on the loose, any minute we could be attacked by Zeus, or a small green alien, and you're all behaving like addle-headed teenagers!"

Dawn put her hand up.

"Yes Dawn?" asked Giles.

"I am an addle-headed teenager."

Giles didn't look amused.

Buffy quickly interjected with a set of orders.

'O.K guys, I reckon it's time to go into serious research mode. Willow, Tara, you guys hit the books and look up spells that could do this thing, and what we have to do to stop it. Giles, do that thing you do when you're excited about something old and magical, and then come up with a miraculously simple solution. Cause we all could use one right about now. Xander, come with me. We're gonna go book character hunting."

Buffy was about to leave when she saw Anya and Dawn looking at her expectantly. There was an awkward pause as Buffy struggled to think of something she could entrust to the pair that would be neither insulting nor with the potential for danger of any kind.

"Ummm, you guys look at actual books. See which ones have characters missing."

Buffy and Xander walked out of the magic shop. It was dark now, with just a hint of blue still in the sky. A lone figure was leaning against a lamppost, a cigarette held nonchalantly in one hand, and bottle of Jack Daniels resting on a stack of books in the other.

The figure stepped out of the shadow, surprising Xander, who, being rather unobservant, had not noticed it previously.

"Ahh! For the love of God Spike, do you have to sneak up on people like that! I thought that was Angel's shtick. Are you really so lame now as to steal another vampire's slightly unsettling habits?" Xander asked.

"Spike," said Buffy, "For the record, sneaking up on people aint half so unsettling when they know you're sterile. Forget it."

"Buffy, we need to have a talk," said Spike, desperately wanting the subject of his and Buffy's kiss(es) to be addressed.

"Spike, why would Buffy ever need to talk to you? Get lost. And what are you doing with a stack of books? As if you ever learnt to read."

"So says Mister Literate," Spike retaliated, "But if you must know, I was returning them to Dawn. She left them at my crypt."

He walked into the magic box.

Buffy and Xander continued on their way, looking out for any creepy book characters. Soon Spike caught up to them, much to both Buffy and Xander's annoyance.

"So, what's our mission?" asked Spike cheerfully.

Buffy ignored the blond vampire. Xander wanted to reply, but Buffy stopped him.

"Xander, can you check down that street? I'll continue snooping round the high street, see if I can spot Puff the Magic Dragon taking tea at the coffee house."

"Huh?" Spike, as he hadn't been filled in on the situation, thought that Buffy had gone completely insane. (Assumed insanity was becoming rather a feature of this increasingly bizarre situation.)

Buffy continued to ignore Spike until Xander was well out of ear shot.

"Spike, nothing we've had together has meant anything to me. Can you get that through your thick skull? Nothing."  
>Spike looked away from Buffy, and purposefully clenched his fists. He wanted Buffy to think he was angry. He made sure his back was turned to her, he couldn't let her see the embarrassing tears pooling in the corner of his eyes.<p>

He composed himself quickly.

"So what's the big nasty?" he asked, "And what the hell has it got to do with Puff the Magic Dragon?"

"Book characters are coming to life," Buffy explained quickly, bothering less about detailed explanations when Spike was the recipient of the information.

"Bugger." said Spike succinctly.

"Exactly. I killed Harry Potter this morning."

"No! Not Harry!" cried Spike, "er, I mean, why?"

Buffy looked at Spike strangely.

"Just happened real- oh my God there's a guy riding a horse down the middle of the road!"

"Bloody hell! I think that's bloody Mister Darcy in bloody California!"

Spike was so shocked he failed to find his usual colourful variety of swearwords, so he stuck to his tried favourite.

"Ooh! From Pride and Prejudice! Hmmm. I suppose he does kinda look like Colin Firth."

"Hey! Darcy!" Spike yelled, waving at the confused looking gentleman, "Over here!"

"Spike!"

"What?" said Spike, looking at Buffy suspiciously.

"You were born around his time weren't you? You can explain stuff to him."

"No way," sighed Spike, "When I was alive I hated people like him. It was blokes like that as gave me the taste for blood."

Mr Darcy approached Buffy and Spike, jumping down from his large chestnut stallion.

"Tell me, where might I find Pemberly? I appear to be lost."

"Sorry Darcy," said Buffy.

She knocked him out quickly, and dragged him back to the Magic Box, laying him on one of the book strewn tables. Spike trailed he, looking slightly too pleased about Mr Darcy's rather compromising position.

"Giles, can you lock Mr Darcy in the Training room please?"

"Yes, yes of course," said Giles absentmindedly, juggling his stack of books, desperately trying to keep him self from dropping the whole lot on the floor.

Buffy dragged Mr Darcy down into the training room, and put him on the couch. She looked at him critically.

"He's no Colin Firth," she said decidedly, before walking up the stairs.

"I never like Colin Firth myself," said Spike, who had been watching her from the doorway, "He was too insipid, and not nearly virile enough. Possibly his appeal is in his every man qua…" Spike realised that Buffy was looking at him strangely, "I mean, the guy's a wanker!"

Buffy turned to go, Spike's last sentence having restored her confidence in his ultimate stupidity.

She walked out the front door, running into Dawn, who was running as fast as she could, whilst carrying a large stack of books. An exasperated looking Anya was following her.

"Ow!" Dawn exclaimed, looking wounded, "Watch where you put your oversized clumsy slayer feet!"

Buffy looked down pointedly at her incredibly tall sisters long feet.

"Anyway," said Dawn, "Anya and I have something really important to tell you. All of you."

She strode into the magic box and dumped her books on the table, messing up Willow's carefully arranged pile of notes, and pulled out a long lost of names.

Anya followed suit with her slightly less precarious pile of novels.

Dawn cleared her throught impressively. It wasn't often that she got to be in the limelight, except when Giles was lecturing her on proper decorum or whatever.

"OK guys, Anya and I were reading our way through my bookshelf and we've made some pretty worrying discoveries."

Just at that moment, Xander walked in through the door, bleeding profusely from a cut just above his right eye and carrying a huge dog.

"Is it just me whose thinking 'Hound of the Baskervilles'?" he joked feebly, accepting Willows assistance with both the dog and the cut.

"Does anyone have a muzzle or something?" asked Buffy hopefully, not expecting a positive answer.

"Um…" Spike sheepishly pulled one out of his back pocket, "I always used to keep one handy in case I got the cravin' for a bit of canine."

Buffy raised her eyebrow at Spikes lame explanation, but let it slip by. She put the muzzle on the dog, and put it down in the cellar with Mr Darcy.

"Um, hello?" Dawn was peeved at everyone's lack of interest in her important announcement, "I have information, remember?"

"Just wait a while Dawn," said Giles impatiently, "Xander may have something important to report."

"You have no idea. I just saw a caveman having a fight with an ancient roman in front of the Espresso Pump. I may be scarred for life."

"Poor Xander," said Willow, making a sympathetic face and putting Xander into a chair, "You sit down there, and if any other characters from the ancient world try and bother us, we'll give 'em some jeans and teach them a few curse words."

"Um, I th-think Dawnie had something to say," interjected Tara.

"'Harry Potter' : Harry, Voldemort, Ron. Pride and Prejudice: Mr Darcy, Eragon from, well, Eragon, Sauron fro-"

"Huh?" said Xander, interrupting.

"That's some of the people who've come to this plane of existence," Anya explained.

Dawn continued reading names, "Where the wild things are: The wild things, Superman: Superman," Dawn paused for moment to explain, "turns out that this spell or whatever is affecting comics to, umm, also, so look out for a large man asking you why you're so serious. Plus loads of witches and ogres and stuff are missing from fairytales..."

"Superman's gone? D'ya reckon I could try and find hi… I mean, tell us how to get rid of them all Buff."

Xander tried to hide his eagerness to meet his hero.

"Um, Giles? Now would be a good time for one of your sudden clever ideas?"

Buffy looked at Giles hopefully.

"I…I am terribly sorry Buffy, but I've never even heard of this situation happening before, let alone dealt with it… The research that Willow, Tara and I have been doing has not been helpful in the least, and I wasn't expecting it on anything like this scale. I'm afraid I have nothing."

"I-I think I might have something," said Tara, rather unexpectedly.

Everyone looked at her hopefully.

"Well, this book here has loads of interesting stuff in it about sorcerers with power centres, and how the source of power is what the spell draws on and how if it's broken…" Tara trailed off, realising that noone except Willow had any idea what she was talking about.

"What I'm trying to say is that, if we find the guy who's doing this, we can probably break the spell," Tara finished.

"And even if we can't use the whole power source spell, I reckon that any sorcerer confronted with a totally pissed off Buffy would take back his spell in a second," smiled Willow.

"OK, I guess I'm going creepy magic man hunting."

Buffy looked out the door, just to check that everything was OK, and shut it. Quickly.

"Um, Guys? There's a band of pissed off looking fictional characters heading up main street. I can't take all of them, and besides, I just got my hair cut."

Willow grabbed her laptop, Spike grabbed The Coat, Xander grabbed Anya, and they all dashed out the door. The leapt into Giles' sports car, ignoring that fact that it was meant for only four people. Giles put his foot down, and they screeched up the main road.

Willow said something under her breath, and curled her lip in disgust.

"There's some big magical activity going on at that hotel by the docks," she said.

Giles turned the car sharply around the corner. Spike dropped the cigarette he was trying to light out the side, and Willows laptop nearly fell down to be trampled by hundreds of feet, hooves, talons, and claws.

Willow typed away at her machine rapidly.

"Buffy, I can't find anyway to reverse a spell of this kind of magnitude. It's keyed into whoever's workin' the mojo. So basically, you're going to have to force him, or her, to tell us how to reverse it."

Buffy looked grim.

"Getting him to talk shouldn't be that hard," she smiled humourlessly, "cause I don't know about you guys, but I am royally pissed off."

"Are we nearly there?" asked Xander, shouting to be heard above the roaring engine.

"No we are not, and really Xander, this is no time to be emulating a six year old."

Giles said, glancing over to look disapprovingly at Xander, and finally noticing that he was bodily keeping Anya from jumping out of the car. Xander had his hand over her mouth to keep her from screaming, and had an extremely longsuffering expression upon his face.

"Anya just discovered Peter Rabbit. And then parted from him abruptly. Apparently our magic man shares bunny phobia with An. No other reason he'd bring a talking animal to life, surely?"

Buffy suddenly looked thoughtful. Giles suddenly looked horror struck.

"The magic guy who's doing this doesn't seem to be trying to build a fictional army, or trying to destroy the world, which is great. I think that five apocalypses are enough," said Buffy.

"Um, Buff, it's actually been six. Although, technically speaking there have been none, because none were successful. An apocalypse only becomes an apocalypse in the event of the world actually ending. Although, when that happens I don't think that anyone's gonna be counting, on account of everyone being, well, dead. I think_"

"Gonna have to stop you there Will," said Xander, "I'm starting to break down in a cold sweat. You're bringin' back all those creepy high school memories."

Giles muttered something under his breath, steering the convertible with only one hand.

"No, guys, you don't get my point. Whoever is doing this doesn't seem to have any plans. Which means that he's either crazy, or just really likes chaos. Personally, I'm voting for the former."

Giles swerved around another corner, narrowly missing a lamp post. A very old lamp post that had a worrying resemblance to the signpost that points the way to Narnia.

"Who ever has managed to achieve a spell of such magnitude would have to have incredible concentration and magical discipline," he called over his shoulder, "so I find it rather unlikely that who ever it is is an, erm, 'crazy person.'"

"STOP!" screamed Willow, grabbing hold of Giles' arm, which, considering the speed at which the car was travelling, was not a good idea.

Giles slammed his foot on the brake, and screeched to a halt. They were stopped in front of a small and inexpensive hotel called 'the Palace.'

A doorman stood outside the front door, smoking an illicit cigarette and trying to keep ash from falling onto his bright red uniform. The glass doors led into a foyer containing a few couches and a desk, at which a very ordinary looking couple were checking in. This very normal and calm scene made the group pause for a beat, despite the pack of (literally) fairytale monsters being only five minutes or so behind them.

"Are you sure this is the right place sweetie?" asked Tara dubiously, "only you know you've always had problems with tracking spells."

Willow looked hurt.

"This is the place! And we should really get a move on unless we want to be eaten by the rampaging beasts of yore!"

Willow grabbed Tara and ran inside, closely followed by the others. In their haste to reach the counter they forcibly pushed pass the couple that were checking in, much to the pairs' annoyance.

"Would you watch where you're go_"

"Has someone unusual booked in recently? Maybe someone with a staff, or a t-shirt with a picture of the devil on it?" asked Buffy, looking hopefully at the bemused clerk.

"There was a man fitting that description who came in a few days ago. Very handsome, with an English accent. Are you friends of his?"

Buffy and Giles looked at each other.

"It can't be!" they said in unison.

"What room?"

"Umm, 304 I think…"

Buffy slammed open the door, and there, sitting in the floor chanting intelligibly, was an all too familiar figure.

"But you're in prison!" Buffy exclaimed.

Ethan Rayne jumped up, knocking over a statue and shattering it in his haste.

"Damn, that was an original ancient greek!" he complained.

Buffy slammed him into the wall, and looked at him menacingly.

"Where's your power source Rayne!"

"All of this seems very familiar," murmured Willow, "he really needs to consider being less predictable."

"Ahh, well you see, about that," Ethan said, "it isn't exactly going to be as easy as that."

"Hmm, well, I could put my fist into your face, that'd be easy," Buffy said, "And then maybe you'd tell us."

"I am happy to tell you where it is children, it's just getting to it and destroying it that will not be so easy."

"Ethan!" Giles said sharply, "this is not a game! There is an army of impossible things heading towards us as we speak!"

"Oh fine. It's in with my socks."

Ethan looked defeated. It was rather pathetic really. And moreover, his revelation had been so anticlimactic that rather than being relieved the panicked group found that they felt vaguely disappointed and annoyed.

Buffy walked over the Sorcerer's suitcase and pulled out a small glass sphere. In the middle of the sphere words were appearing and disappearing constantly, shimmering as they departed. Buffy realised that the words were, in fact, names- this was the key to the chaos waiting for them outside the hotel.

_Crash._

"Well that wasn't too difficult."

Ethan's face contorted in a way that hinted at overwhelming and debilitating rage.

"I broke out of high security prison for this, and you've ruined it before it even really began! Just imagine the joy of it- the President eaten by Godzilla, little kiddies in school catching up with a few death eaters, fairytale princesses accidently walking into red light districts. It would have been so wonderfully wild!"

He sighed.

Buffy was about to destroy him, (although not literally due to the blanket rule that one must not kill humans, but she could at the very least rough him up a little), when Spike stepped in front of her fist.

"Let me deal with this one pet. You've got no need to waste any more time than you already have. And sides, he's funny when he's scared."

He winked at Buffy. Ethan had been gone for longer than the existence of Spike's chip, and his only knowledge of Spike lay within the many legendary tales written about the notorious, vengeful Willam the Bloody.

Ethan gulped.

"OK Spike. We'll let you deal with this one."

Xander grinned evilly. "Can't I watch? It'll be like an epic showdown, only minus the showdown and the epic, leaving only glorious violence in its place."

He was feeling rather sour about having been taunted with the prospect of saying hello to superman only to have the experience denied to him in the space of only a few seconds.

He was dragged unwillingly away, leaving Spike and Ethan alone in the hotel room.

"Now," said Spike menacingly, "We have two options here. Either I eat you- and when you make your decision, please do bear in mind that I am feeling rather peckish indeed- or you do me a favour.

Ethan looked at Spike suspiciously.

"What kind of favour?"

_Later that night:_

Edward was confused. He had just been about to propose to Bella, the love of his life and the greatest possession that he had ever been lucky enough to own, when he'd found himself in what appeared to be night time California.

He walked a few paces, before noticing that there was a blonde haired man lurking in the shadows near where he had been standing.

"Who are you?" he asked, confused but as usual unafraid.

"I'm a vampire," the man replied.

Edward was confused.  
>"You can't be a vampire. You don't sparkle. You aren't inhumanly beautiful."<p>

Spike's grin turned into a snarl with Edward's last, rather cruel sentence.

"See now, love, that's exactly my point. I am a vampire. A real vampire. And I think that it's time for me and you to have a little chat about what that means."

Spike's smile reappeared as he spoke. He and Edward would have a little talk, and when he got Rayne to send the hapless vamp back into his wordy realm, Twilight was going to end a little differently.

"Sorry Bella," he said, and laughed.


End file.
